


Personal Penguins

by SnubNosedSilhouette



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubNosedSilhouette/pseuds/SnubNosedSilhouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because there's more to being a companion than simply traveling through time and space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Penguins

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thoroughly silly series of ficlets/drabbles inspired by my toddler's favorite book. Many thanks to Sandra Boynton for hours of entertainment and plot bunnies. Spoilers for seasons 1-6.
> 
> All text in bold belongs completely and utterly to Ms. Boynton and can be found in her book I Want to Be Your Personal Penguin. 
> 
> Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. I'm just taking their characters out for a test drive.

** I want to be your personal penguin. I want to walk right by your side. I want to be your personal penguin; I want to travel with your far and wide. **

  
1.  
  


Rose has never been anywhere.  

Oh sure, she took a tour to Paris in high school like everyone else, but it didn't really count as going to a place when all you saw were the same tired tourist attractions that every other schoolgirl saw. She's never seen Shanghai, never seen Rome, never seen Rio, and has definitely never seen the stars. Until now.

And in this moment, looking down at the Earth about to be incinerated by a supernova, she understands just how small those big places actually were, and how big "anywhere" actually is now that she can see it all. He reaches out to hold her hand, seeming to understand without asking just how overwhelming this type of exhilaration can be. She grips his to the point of discomfort if only to assure herself that it's all real. That she will never again be able to say that she's never seen anything worth writing home about.

Because this? This is worth the price of postage.

 

2.

Martha never harbored dreams of going to the moon. 

Oh, sure, she watched the film clips in school, and even remembers (dimly) the day the Challenger shuttle exploded, but she never begged to be astronaut for Halloween. She never drew pictures of herself exploring strange new worlds. Never even watched a single episode of Star Trek, no matter how often her brother had it on the telly.  

Martha's explorations have all taken place within the confines of the human body. Rather, "confine" is a word others would use, but to her, it is a universe in and of itself. 

How she longs to explore the unmapped regions of the mind, burns to discover the secrets of cancer and AIDS. Aches to see the rivers of the bloodstream as if she were the size of a platelet. So why then is she here, in an improbable blue box, with a man who is promising to show her the reaches of space and time? She honestly has no idea, and yet at this moment she cannot imagine doing anything else.

  


3.

Every morning, Donna packs her bags. Her mother mocks her, and her grandfather moans about going with her, but Donna ignores them both. She is going to find the Doctor again, and by God she is going with him. No force on Earth can stop her. But he'd better have a good storage system, or at least some large closets, because there is no way Donna Noble is going to find herself on an alien world without at least three wardrobe options complete with accessories.

Naturally, this does no leave much room for groceries in the boot, which is why she takes her mother's car when she goes to the market.

Idly, she daydreams about the places they'll visit. Warm places, she resolves in the dead of winter. Sandy alien beaches where blue cabana boys will spread oil on her shoulders.  

Anywhere but here.

  


4.

Appearances to the contrary, Amelia Pond has a plan. She will see the universe, then pop right back home just in time to marry Rory Williams in a small, moderately budgeted ceremony. Then they will settle down to a quiet life together, and she will never again dream of traveling the stars with the Raggedy Doctor. 

And then...she doesn't want to go back. 

Rory is great, kind, loved--in a way--but not in the least exciting. And if there's one thing Amelia Pond has learned since she left Leadworth the night before her wedding, it's that she wants excitement in her life. So she doesn't mention the whole getting-married-in-the-morning thing. She tries to forget the white dress hanging in her closet. Tries to live in the here-and-now while steadfastly ignoring the increasingly obvious fact that what she's actually doing is starting to look less and less like exploring the universe and more and more like running away from it.

 

  


** Wherever you go, I'll go there too. Here, and there, and everywhere and always with you.  I want to be your personal penguin from now on. **

**   
**

1.

She gives him a sidelong glance from the corner of her eye. He's standing at the control panel doing something Time Lord-y, and she's a foot away, acting as if it's no big deal that in the last 24 hours he's changed faces, saved the planet (again), saved Christmas, and invited her to continue traveling with him. It's been a busy day.

Truthfully, she hadn't planned on staying this long. She's loved the last year--loved it more than words could possibly express. When she thinks about it too much she wonders how she will ever go back to a regular life when this time is over.

He's him. She knows he's him, even if he's shorter now with darker hair and (apparently) a penchant for styling products. His manic grin, the light in his eyes when he's about to do something mad, the way he can't stop talking for even a moment now that they're alone again--it's him. So she decides, then and there. She's never going back to that ordinary life. She's going to stay with him. Always.

  


2.

Martha hasn't realized just how attached to this life she's gotten until she hears the fear in her mum's voice.   

She tries to sound breezy and reassuring as she grips her mobile and asks Mum to tell her about the family.  She knows she's failing completely.  And her mum, who has always been like a force of nature, is clearly terrified.  Martha knows that she thinks the Doctor is some crazy cult leader or kidnapper, and she knows that it would be best for her to go home, let her mum see that she's fine, possibly even let her meet the Doctor, but she can't.  Because if there's one thing Martha has never been able to do, it's say "no" to her mother.  And her mother would never, ever be okay with this.  So she whispers that she has to go and hangs up.

Her conscience eats at her.

But that's what happens, she reasons, when you make your first adult decision.  Martha Jones is staying, and this time not even her mother can force her to change her mind. 

  


3.

Donna almost changes her mind after Pompeii.  

For the last year, she's been searching for the Doctor, been searching for herself--for the person she wants to be--and now that she's found it she's not quite sure it's what she had in mind.  All those people...  Sure, they'd been able to save a few, but in doing so they'd left behind thousands.  It's almost more than she can bear.

Afterwards, she needs to be alone.  So she wanders the corridors of the TARDIS for awhile, mindlessly poking her head into rooms.  She finds the library, the tennis court, the swimming pool, and at least seven bathrooms.  

And then she finds she can't go on.  She slumps to the floor, back against the corridor, and starts to sob.  

A long-fingered, pale hand reaches out for hers, grasps it, and pulls her up.  Still crying, Donna finds herself pulled into his warm embrace.  "I know," he murmurs again and again.  "I know." 

She never asks how he found her in the depths of the TARDIS that day, and he never mentions it again, but in that moment she realizes that even though he hardly knows her, the Doctor understands that even when she wants to be by herself she still sometimes just needs a hug.  She's never had a friend before--male or female--who really understood that.  Somehow, he does.

  


4.

How many girls ever actually meet their imaginary (or not-so-imaginary, in her case) friends?  Nobody.  So why, then, wouldn't Amelia Pond wave goodbye to her wedding reception and leap right back into the TARDIS with Rory by her side?

She loves the adventures.  She'll always love the adventures, even the ones where she almost dies.  But if the last year has taught her anything it's that if adventure was the only thing she craved she'd take up skydiving or deep-sea exploration.  Adventure isn't the point anymore, and if she's being completely honest it probably never was.  It's him.  The Doctor.  Her Raggedy Doctor in the flesh.  Does she need any other reason?

So she takes Rory, because she's never going to leave him behind again, and waves goodbye to her parents and friends.  She's made her choice.

 

  


** Now, lots of other penguins seem to do fine in a universe of nothing but ice.  But if I could be yours and you could be mine, our cozy little world would be twice as nice. **

**   
**

1.

Once, Rose Tyler saved the universe.  

Once, she lost everything she ever held dear.

Once, she made a decision, and then learned that nobody really cared what she wanted after all.

She remembers it all, more clearly than ever when she sees him from behind two blocks away.  She's gone through hell, sacrificed everything she knows she should want to hang onto (Mum, Dad, Mickey, Tony, her work, her life), and has never once questioned whether this moment would be worth it.  

She sees Donna raise an arm, point in her direction, and then she sees his face again.  His smile.  And as they both break into a run, she realizes that yes, he's worth it all.

Everything is going to be better now, she thinks as she sprints toward him.  I'm home.

  


2.

Martha knows her time with the Doctor is ending when his eyes just skim past her when she brings his breakfast in the morning. Oh yes, he's lost (can it be lost when she knows exactly where to find it?) his memory and has no idea who she or he actually is, but that's no excuse. She's his companion--the one person he trusts above all other people to share his life with--shouldn't that count for something, memory or no?

When she realizes that he's developed feelings for another woman, it feels as if someone has replaced her stomach with ice. It's a sick, cold, unlivable feeling. And really, she's not this type of person. Boys--men--have always come and gone, but she's never allowed one to distract her from her goals. And then he came along, and she gave up everything. EVERYTHING. Just for him. And now where is she? Trapped for the time being in a time when the color of her skin matters more than the quality of her mind, and all but ignored by the one person she always believed saw her for what she's always believed herself to be--special. Martha Jones is special. She's always believed that.  Except to him.

But wouldn't it be wonderful--marvelous even--if it weren't so? And maybe...someday... So once the real him is back, and they've left that time (that woman) behind, she stays.

  


3.

Donna's brain is on fire.  

Oh, not literally, of course.  But it's difficult to hang onto the thread of a single thought when you have twenty others zooming aroundandoverandunderandthrough it.

She gasps.

Something is wrong.  Something is very wrong.  The look on his face--he knows.  And if he knows, she knows.  What's in his brain, after all.

Oh.  No.

"I'm so sorry," he says, and she sees in his eyes that this is breaking his heart.  Hearts.  Whatever.  

Words are coming out of her mouth, and she's backing away from his outstretched hands because she knows what's coming, but among all those other aroundandthroughandaround thoughts she considers, "But wouldn't it have been wonderful if it had lasted?  If we could really be equals?  Wouldn't that have been lovely?"

And then it all ends.

  


4.

The thought that she's known her son-in-law since she was eight and he was 903 should probably really, really bother Amy Pond.  Once the initial shock wears off, though, she finds that she's remarkably comfortable with the idea.  

Possibly it's because he's the Doctor, and her daughter is River Song, and somehow the complicated web of relationships between them all still doesn't seem quite real.  Possibly it's because she's just so relieved that Melody--River--is safe and happy and (as the Doctor would say) amazing that everything else seems like a meaningless detail.  Possibly because she'd gotten so used the idea that River was Mrs. Doctor even before she knew who River actually was that the whole thing really isn't that strange after all.  And possibly because Rory's blood pressure skyrockets and he starts muttering about getting his sword anytime she brings up the subject, so she just decides to stop thinking about it.

In any case, the one very, very good thing about becoming the Doctor's mother-in-law?  It means that even when he leaves them behind, he'll always come back.  After all, that's what family is all about.

 

  


** I want to be your personal penguin. I want to talk to you night and day. I want to be your personal penguin. I want to listen to whatever you say. **

**   
**

1.

"I was a dad once."

That was days ago, and Rose still doesn't know what to say.  She knows he doesn't want her to bring it up, and knows that he probably regrets saying it, but it's all she can think about.

It has suddenly occurred to her that as much as he talks, and he talks constantly, he never really says anything about himself.  She knows that his world was destroyed, that there was a war with the Daleks, and that he stole the TARDIS long before all that happened, but nothing about him personally.  He's never mentioned people--people from Gallifrey, people from Earth, people from anywhere.  

He had children once.  And now he doesn't talk about them.

If something happened--if she left or died--would he talk about her? 

  


2.

Martha never realized just how much time she had spent listening to the Doctor in the TARDIS--how much time she'd spent not doing the talking herself--until she came back.  She's older now, a doctor herself, and she's learned a few things.  Namely, that she and the Doctor had never really been friends.  He'd been a mentor, someone she'd respected, and someone she'd loved.  But friends?  No.  Friendship would imply equality, and she'd never felt like she was his equal.

They'd never really talked.

She considers then when she watches Donna argue with him.  Somehow, this woman with no education who Martha would never have given a second glance in the "real" world knows exactly how to talk to the Doctor.

There have been times when Martha has wondered if she made the right decision when she left the TARDIS.  Now, she knows.  She did.

  


3.

Sometimes they talk all night long. Not because Donna isn't tired, but because there's always something else to say. Some new joke, some story, some utterly random observation that sends him whirling off to the control panel, pushing far more knobs and levers than she suspects is strictly necessary.

They once talked through windows, and seem to be have been making up for the necessary deficiencies of that conversation ever since.

When he told her he wanted "a mate" her mind had gone straight to the gutter. She wasn't having ANY of that, thank you very much. But now she understands--he didn't really just want a friend, he's had those before. He wanted someone to talk with. Someone who wouldn't just listen, but who would talk back. Who would challenge him. And talking? Well, aside from typing, memorizing cataloging systems, and working herself into righteous indignation, talking was what Donna Noble did best.

  


4.

In a way, Amy Pond has never really fit in anywhere. You don't really become a professional kiss-o-gram, after all, if you do. She wonders, sometimes, who she would have been if not for the Doctor. A nurse, like Rory? A teacher? A secretary fetching coffee and filing things in some dreary office? An international star? 

Would she even want to know? 

The Doctor could probably tell her, she decides.  If she asked, he'd probably start talking about timestreams and how wibbley-wobbley the universe actually was, and would likely continue on that vein for at least half an hour before giving her an answer, but in the end he'd probably tell her. 

Would she want to know?

Yes, but maybe no. How can you tell what part of the person you are today is the result of a chance encounter (or possibly not so chance--the more she learns about the TARDIS, the less she thinks it was an accident that the Doctor landed in her garden that night) when you were eight, and what part would have evolved naturally? 

Whatever else she knows, though, Amy Pond is certain that she never, ever wants to find out what life without the Doctor would be. She catches his eye from across the console and smiles. 

"What is it?" he asks, returning her grin.

"Nothing. Just happy."

And she is.  Nothing he could tell her about might-have-beens could change that.

 

  


** Just look at these wings, so perfect to hold you. **

**   
**

0.

It is a physical ache, watching him walk away and knowing that she will never again be able to reach out and embrace him. 

She remembers the first time he held her in his arms, and smiles in spite of her broken hearts at the memory. Her first night in Stormcage, he'd come for her. Oh, she'd seen him between the day she'd tried to kill him--and Hitler--and then, but he'd kept his distance. A hand on her arm, pulling her up after an explosion; his lips whispering instructions in her ear as they hid from an adversary; his chest pressed briefly against hers as they had passed one another in a narrow corridor. She'd come to the pyramid in Giza prepared for more of the same, and found herself abruptly (but not at all unwelcomely) married to the man she should have killed twice over. 

No sooner had the guards deposited her in Cell 46--a dismal, dank number--than she'd felt his arms wrap around her. She'd been looking out the lone window, wondering just how long it would be until she saw sunlight again, and then there he was. Turning around within his embrace, she'd seen such warmth, such understanding in his eyes, and there had been no awkwardness as he'd leaned down to kiss her for (in her timestream) the first time. The other two had been under false pretenses or duress--they didn't count. This time, well, no one was going to die today because their lips were finally meeting on equal terms.

As they stumbled into the TARDIS, too giddy and filled with the novelty of their relationship (all on her side, of course, as she later realized that as far as he was concerned they had been married for decades) to take notice of such things as doorjambs and steps, she realized something: this was perfection.

It had lasted forever. It had ended too soon. And now her arms were empty.

///

 

  


** Just let me repeat what I've already told you **

**   
**

1.

Love sacrificed.

2.

Love unrequited.

3.

Love lost.

4.

Love and family.

0.

Love. Forever.

// /

  


** I want to be your personal penguin.  Imagine me, your personal penguin.  I want to be your personal penguin from now on.  Please? **


End file.
